Just Another Couple Sighting
by elvencherry07
Summary: I hate Valentine's Day. So does Lily. Until James shows up. One-shot LJ


Heylo. Just a quickie for V-day. I don't know if it came out very well because I was depressed when I started it but by the time I finished editing I was bordering on hysterical laughter. Anyway, comments would really be appreciated, just to tell me how to improve.  
  
What's wrong with me?  
  
I'll admit, that's not something I wonder very often. I know I have my faults, but I try not to dwell on them. Normally, I'm a pretty self- confident person. Normally there's something wrong with them.  
  
Unfortunately, Valentine's Day is not at all normal.  
  
I hate Valentine's Day. It's just so damn annoying. Everyone's laughing and snogging and practically shagging all over the school, not to mention the stupid bears and candies and singing cards. Even the stupid first-years participate in the festivities – there are swarms of freakin' eleven-year olds all over the place giggling madly and chasing their "crushes." Ooh, how exciting.  
  
I know I sound horribly jealous. Maybe I am. As a first-year, my first Hogwarts Valentine's Day was quite an educational experience. I opened the door of a supposedly- empty classroom and... well, you get the picture. The students were seventh years, obviously. You can always tell seventh years from sixth years because they have attitude. They act like they rule the world.  
  
After that particular experience, I was under the impression that all the older students were romantically involved with each other. I admired their sophisticated allusions to shagging, which were scattered carelessly throughout their conversations. I awaited the day when I, too, would be welcomed into this mature world of love and insuppressible passion. Every single year I returned to Hogwarts with a new haircut and new robes, thinking, "This is the year. I'm FINALLY getting a boyfriend this year." But my predictions never came true.  
  
Why me? My personality isn't "bubbly," but I'm not shy either. Certainly I'm capable of holding a civilized, co-ed conversation without experiencing a famous redhead blush attack. Maybe I'm not drop-dead gorgeous, but neither is my sister. Even Petunia has a boyfriend, so that just makes me even more pathetic.  
  
The only person who has ever expressed romantic tendencies toward me is James Potter, who doesn't count. I don't know what he's up to, but his affections obviously aren't genuine. I know the Marauders well enough to conclude that much. If I ever decide to accept his offer, I know it will only end in heart-wrenching humiliation. Something like a public breakup in the middle of the Great Hall, perhaps? During which he tells me our entire relationship was just a silly bet. After which he laughs cruelly and walks away, leaving me standing before the jeering crowd, picking up the pieces of my heart.  
  
Although it's highly unlikely that I would even be affected. After all, I saw through James Potter from the very beginning, starting from the very first time he ever smiled at me. It wasn't a genuine smile, more like a mocking, condescending, I'm-cooler-than-you-are smile. A millisecond later, I found myself covered in green pus. That's Potter for you.  
  
Even though I am completely aware of James Potter's total idiocy, he's still dangerous. Very dangerous. In fact, if he spent five minutes in my company without opening his mouth or ruffling his hair, I might actually be attracted to him. Who knows? I might even become one of his groupies and join his fan club. I hear they're putting together a very nice Valentine's Day fashion show for his benefit.  
  
Am I being overdramatic about the whole Valentine's Day issue? It's just that every single year, by the time February rolls around, I manage to turn stupid and mushy and allow a single ray of hope to break through my "steel trap" mind. Every year I examine my dorm room meticulously, send my owl outside where anyone can find her, and glance under my chair in every single class. Every year I find nothing. No candy, no secret admirers, no Valentines, no newfound love.  
  
So this year I'm not even trying. I told Professor Dumbledore a Valentine's Day ball was completely out of the question, due to the heavy workload of the students. I got out of bed this morning and headed straight to the bathroom without glancing around for hidden roses behind the door. My bedroom windows are shut and Tracy, my owl, is safely locked inside her cage up in the owlery. I'm still wearing the world's ugliest pajamas, and I have not left the Head Tower once, not even to attend this morning's Quidditch match.  
  
I'm absolutely thrilled that Valentine's Day is a Saturday this year. I'm not missing anything at all, with the exception of twenty million disgustingly happy people. Certainly nobody's missing me, since all my friends already have romantic little dates planned. It's hard to believe, but it looks like everyone has a significant other. I'd be the squeaky little thirty-third wheel.  
  
In order to maintain some degree of productivity, I have scattered twenty-something books all around the Head common room. Unfortunately, I can't bring myself to study. Incidentally, is that why nobody likes me? Do they view me as too studious? As an egghead? Am I intimidating? Probably not. After all, even the nerdiest Ravenclaws have their own Valentine's Day plans. They can give each other heart-patterned dictionaries.  
  
As Head Girl, I should probably be patrolling right now. There are probably at least four hundred points worth of PDA deductions right outside this portrait hole. But then I would just be the prudish, uptight Head Girl who takes off points because she's jealous that she's not the one getting laid. This way, at least I can be the prudish, uptight Head Girl in private.  
  
As I catch sight of two portraits snogging above the fireplace, the tears begin to spill down my cheeks and over my chin. Every year I promise myself I won't get upset, but every year everything eventually catches up with me. Last year I managed to hold out for a couple of weeks, but I finally snapped during Care of Magical Creatures. Needless to say, it was embarrassing. This year, I'll just get it over with. I know I'll feel better when I wake up tomorrow and pin my shiny Head Girl badge on my neatly pressed uniform. Tomorrow I can be Lily Evans, the Head Girl, first in the class, somebody who doesn't need any of the immature pricks in this school for a boyfriend. Today, I'm just the pathetic loser who can't get a date for Valentine's Day.  
  
The portrait hole begins to swing open. Probably Potter, bringing some airhead up here to shag. It wouldn't be the first time. That would be pretty embarrassing though, them seeing me like this. I don't think there's anyone in this entire world who's seen me cry, with the exception of my mother. Usually I'm good at holding my tears until I'm alone at night, safe under the dark covers that are pulled over my head.  
  
Strangely enough, I made no effort to wipe away my tears. Let the popular, beautiful, and wanted laugh at the geeky Head Girl crying alone on the couch. Let them catch me off guard. I can no longer bring myself to care.  
  
Through my tears, I see James Potter stepping through the portrait hole, holding a bouquet of flowers. They are lilies, yellow with splashes of dark red. I note, with great surprise, that he looks nervous. It is a rare expression for James Potter, but a flattering one.  
  
As I watch, Potter approaches me, his expression changing to one of concern. He asks me why I am crying. To my chagrin, I reply truthfully, spilling every single dismal detail. He sits down next to my pajama-clad body and wraps an arm around my waist, whispering soft words of comfort. His touch is foreign, yet oddly familiar.  
  
At last, my body comes to its senses and stops blubbering. Seeing this, he quickly hands me the bouquet, fumbling over his "Happy Valentine's Day." I stare at him uncomprehendingly. Potter half-smiles. "They really were for you, honest. I'm not giving them out of pity."  
  
All of a sudden part of me is standing across the room, watching as Potter draws closer, his hazel eyes meeting my startled green ones. Once again I'm a bystander, watching as a couple shamelessly parades their attachment. As I watch, Potter's thin, dark lips brush against my own very chapped ones. Just another kiss I'm wistfully witnessing.  
  
And then, finally, I'm back in my own body again, feeling Potter's tongue explore my mouth, tenderly but urgently. I feel his arms, tightly wrapped around my waist as if they never want to let me go. Above all, his gentleness astonishes me, pushing all other thoughts out of my mind. As soon as we stop for air he hugs me, his breath tickling my ear. He tells me that I'm beautiful, that I'm the most amazing woman in the world, that there's nothing, nothing wrong with me.  
  
And besides the fact that I'm falling for a bullying, immature toerag, maybe there isn't.  
  
FIN  
  
I hope you liked it... If you, too, are bordering on hysterical laughter then I think that's bad. Oh well. Leave a comment anyway.  
  
-Elvencherry07 


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